


overgrown

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: run the spring // paramedic!damen and paediatric doc!laurent au [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Discussion of Bullying, Doctor AU, Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, Paramedic AU, god this is aggressively domestic, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: ‘Dude, no one carries one piece of gum at a time.’‘Did you justdudeme?’‘What else do you want me to call you? Buddy? Pal? Friendo?’Nicaise gagged at the last suggestion. ‘How about my name? Jesus.’‘Jesus?’ Damen repeated. ‘When did you change it from Nicaise?’Laurent high-fived his fiancé as Nicaise groaned.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Series: run the spring // paramedic!damen and paediatric doc!laurent au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993309
Comments: 64
Kudos: 285





	overgrown

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome back to this 'verse. i said like, in january i was working on a part two of this and _lmao_ it's taken me that long to get this done. i rewrote it about four times, so we'll blame that. also, how fucking wild is it that since i published part one, i've done two years of university and finished my degree? absolutely buck fucking wild, that's what.
> 
> my fic titles are basically just curating a playlist at this point, aren't they? title from the eponymous song by machineheart.

**Thursday, 2:41pm.**

‘Lunch?’

Damen looked up from staring out the window. ‘What?’

‘Lunch?’ Nik repeated, eyebrow raised. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.’

Nik hummed and pulled into the carpark of a sub place. ‘Laurent keeping you up, huh?’

‘No – well, yes, but not like that. He’s planning the wedding so… _aggressively_ ,’ Damen frowned. ‘Which I suppose is nice, but there are only so many colour schemes I can look at in one night without losing the ability to see colour, you know?’

Nik patted him on the shoulder in commiseration. ‘I’ll buy your sandwich. You want a cookie?’

‘Yeah, grab me a large orange juice, too?’ Damen said hopefully.

Nik narrowed his eyes. ‘Fine. But you’re paying for cookies.’

Damen grinned. ‘Done.’

Nik slipped out the door, muttering something under his breath as he slammed it closed again.

Damen pulled his phone out with a yawn, opening his messages to send Laurent a text. He was off today, and tomorrow Damen would join him and they would have the whole weekend to themselves. It had been a while since they’d had more than a day or two off at the same time, but they wouldn’t be back at work until _Tuesday_ , and that was the thought that was keeping Damen going, even though he knew he’d end up looking at more swatches.

_(14:42) Love of my life, how are you doing today?_

Damen locked his phone again and grinned as he watched Nik juggle everything in his hands as he came out of the shop. He leaned over to open the door, and grabbed the cups. ‘Did you get me the one I like?’

‘What, balls?’

‘You’re allowed to call them meatballs, Nik.’

‘We’re in a fast-paced job, balls is more efficient.’

‘It’s one extra syllable.’

‘And yet, you still know what I mean, so what’s the point of saying it?’

‘When in polite company –’

‘Polite company?’ Nik interrupted. ‘I’m the only company you have and I’m not polite.’

‘Maybe you should be,’ Damen said, affronted, as he unwrapped his sandwich.

‘Why?’

Damen chewed his sandwich, eyeing Nik as he started ploughing through his own. Despite technically being on a break, they knew there probably wasn’t much time before they had to start driving again.

However, they managed to finish off their subs and a cookie each before a call came through for them.

_‘Head-on collision, a few cars piling up, caller isn’t sure how many.’_

‘Copy,’ Nik said, starting to follow the address.

 _‘There’s – oh,’_ the dispatcher paused. _‘The caller said something about Laurent.’_

Damen’s heart stopped. ‘Laurent?’ he asked. ‘Any last name?’

_‘de Vere, but I don’t know if he was the caller or if he was someone in the accident.’_

‘Nik –’

‘We’ve got this,’ Nik said, flipping on the sirens and pushing the speed a little more.

***

Damen didn’t think he breathed at all the entire way to the scene of the accident. He was too busy praying to every god he could think of that Laurent hadn’t been involved in a collision or… Damen just wanted him to be okay.

The scene wasn’t good when they arrived. There was another crew there already, waiting by a car with a fire crew, the front all smashed and crumpled. A few other people were sitting on the sidewalk, various injuries from cuts and scrapes to someone cradling their arm to their chest.

Damen didn’t see Laurent anywhere as they jumped out with their bags, heading over to see where they could help. Neither of the main cars were Laurent’s, and none of the other damaged cars were either. Where was Laurent?

‘He’ll be fine, Damen,’ Nik said. ‘He won’t have been hit by the cars.’

‘If you’ve just jinxed that, I will legitimately kill you, Nikandros,’ Damen said flatly.

That was about the time that –

‘ _Sir –_ you need to get out of the car.’

‘I’m holding his femoral artery _in my fucking hand!_ ’

Damen snapped his head towards the cars and moved as quickly as he could towards them.

One of the other paramedics, Pallas, a relatively new guy, nodded at him. ‘Hey, can you convince this guy to get out of the car? It’s unstable.’

‘He doesn’t listen to me,’ Damen said, bending to stare into the car. ‘You didn’t reply to my text.’

Laurent looked up to Damen, eyes wild, his shirt covered in blood. ‘I was a bit busy,’ he hissed. ‘I can’t let go of this artery, Damen, but I can’t tie a tourniquet around it by myself either and _this_ idiot doesn’t believe I know what I’m doing.’

Damen slipped on a pair of gloves as he assessed the situation in the car – it looked like the steering wheel had jolted up and broken the guy’s legs. ‘How you doing there, buddy?’

The driver laughed shakily. ‘Some dude’s hand is inside my leg.’

‘Yeah, I can see that,’ Damen said, searching through his bag for a tourniquet. ‘Does this door open?’ he asked.

‘It’s jammed,’ Laurent said. ‘Damen, you need to help me here.’

‘If I hold the artery, can you tie a tourniquet?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ Damen leaned in through the window, giving Laurent the tourniquet and offering his hand. ‘I’m Damen, by the way,’ he said, looking towards the driver as Laurent guided his hand and helped him to hold the artery. ‘That’s Laurent.’

The guy nodded. ‘Xavier. You two know each other?’

‘Something like that,’ Damen said, as Laurent quickly tied the tourniquet, pulling it tight across the top of Xavier’s thigh. ‘We’re engaged.’

Xavier groaned. ‘I’m being taunted now.’

‘How so?’

‘I went out to get an engagement ring for my boyfriend.’

‘Did you find one?’

‘No, because he’s very picky and I don’t know what he’d like.’

‘Laurent’s the same,’ Damen nodded. ‘I got him filigree and sapphires.’

‘Sounds pretty.’

‘Good thing I’m not wearing it,’ Laurent muttered.

Someone tapped Damen on the back, and he turned to see the fire crew ready to extract Xavier. ‘Okay, I’m going to let go in a moment, the crew is going to get you out, then Pallas and his partner are taking you to the hospital, okay?’

Xavier nodded. ‘I’m ready.’

‘Laurent, get out of the car.’

Laurent nodded and climbed from the other window.

‘You’ll be okay,’ Damen said, then let go and stepped away from the car.

***

When it was over, and everyone had been assessed and sorted, Damen dropped into the back of his ambulance like a sack of stones. Nik was finishing up with someone, and Laurent was still fending off thanks and congratulatory back pats.

From what Damen could gather, Laurent had just been passing by, and as soon as cars stopped crashing, he jumped in to see who needed help – Xavier being the most critical. He didn’t call it in, but he’d yelled his credentials at the person who had. It was three minutes before Pallas and his partner arrived, and four until Damen and Nik showed up.

At last, he was released from the crowd, and came directly towards Damen, looking utterly drained.

Damen stood up, letting Laurent fold himself around him. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked softly.

Laurent shook his head, pressing his face into Damen’s chest. ‘The adrenaline is wearing off. I don’t know how you do this every day.’

‘Most days aren’t this dramatic. You did so well.’

‘I hope he’s okay.’

‘I hope so too,’ Damen agreed. ‘I’m proud of you.’

Laurent made a noise and looked up to Damen. ‘My shirt is covered in blood. There’s blood under my nails and in my _hair_. I look like Carrie.’

‘You don’t look like Carrie.’

‘I look like Carrie.’

Damen sighed, setting Laurent down in the ambulance. ‘Stay here,’ he said, quickly going to the front of the ambulance to get his juice and the last cookie Nik had got them to share. He handed the drink to Laurent, who dutifully took a sip.

‘Why am I drinking orange juice?’ he asked.

‘You’re a doctor, I think you can figure that one out, babe,’ Damen said, sitting next to him and taking the cookie out to break a chunk off and offer to Laurent.

‘You think I’m going to go into shock,’ Laurent said, swallowing the first bite. ‘I won’t.’

‘You can’t say that wasn’t traumatic for you.’

‘You mean plugging someone’s artery with my bare hands?’ Laurent looked down to his hands, still stained red. ‘Maybe that’s an average day for me.’

‘I’m worried for all those babies, then.’

Laurent cracked a smile and nudged Damen for more cookie. ‘The babies are fine.’

‘I know,’ Damen crossed one of his ankles behind Laurent’s. ‘When they said your name over the radio, I thought you were in trouble,’ he said quietly. ‘I was so scared you were in the crash, that I’d get here and find you bleeding out on the side of the road. Dispatch said you were either the caller or in the accident, and I straight away thought of all the worst possibilities and…’

‘I’m sorry for worrying you,’ Laurent said, bumping their ankles together. ‘I think the person who called was more stressed than I was.’

‘Yeah, I think that’s generally the way of things,’ Damen said, giving him another bit of cookie. ‘Why were you even over here? We never come to this side of town.’

Laurent made a thoughtful noise as he swallowed the cookie. ‘There was a florist over here that I wanted to look at and talk to about sourcing for the wedding.’

Damen shook his head. ‘Of course there was. Did you get there?’

‘Nope,’ Laurent nodded to a sign just down the street and the lavender and white striped awning. ‘But I was here at the right time.’

‘I think you were,’ Damen agreed. ‘Maybe this weekend we can go together. That way if there are any other crashes, I can get my shirt all bloody instead.’

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Laurent sighed. ‘Though I hope I don’t have to.’

‘Yeah, me neither.’

***

**Thursday, 5:49pm.**

‘Yeah?’

‘Did you shove your hand into some dude’s leg?’

Laurent blinked. ‘Is this how we’re greeting each other now, Auguste?’

‘Yes,’ Auguste said. ‘Did you?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘Because he came into my ER and asked if I had a brother, because he’d had a different Doctor de Vere stick his fingers into his leg, unless there were two of us and we could travel very fast.’

‘Oh.’ Laurent flexed the fingers of his unoccupied hand. ‘Was he okay? Xavier?’

‘He’s in surgery,’ Auguste sighed. ‘But it looks like he’ll be fine.’

A feeling of relief washed over Laurent, one so heavy he just about sobbed. ‘Thank the gods,’ he breathed.

‘You did a good job, Laurent. You saved his life.’

‘Okay, that’s – thank you.’

‘You scrubbed under your nails, right?’

‘I know how to…’ Laurent trailed off. ‘Yes. I did.’

‘Good. I’ve gotta go, but I thought you might like to know how he’s doing.’

‘Yeah, thank you.’

‘No problem. Say hi to Damen for me.’

‘I will.’

Laurent hung up the phone and tossed it beside himself onto the bed. He looked at his hands and clenched his fingers, unsure why this was affecting him so much.

Maybe just one more scrub.

***

**Thursday, 7:12pm.**

_  
(19:12) Dinner?_

**_(19:12) Please get burgers. I want a milkshake. Chocolate._ **

_(19:12) Be home soon x_

***

**Thursday, 8:04pm.**

‘Today sucked,’ Laurent said, dangling his hand outside the bath to find his milkshake.

Damen reached out silently to move it closer to him. ‘I know,’ he said, running one hand over Laurent’s stomach and propping the other one behind his head as he relaxed back into the bath. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I think I’m okay. I’m used to blood, but not… like that.’

‘Controlled environment versus emergency medicine.’

‘Exactly. I’ll be fine, eventually.’

‘Good thing you work at a hospital where there are therapists you can see, if you feel so inclined.’

‘You think I need therapy after that?’

‘I think it doesn’t hurt to talk about things,’ Damen kissed Laurent’s hair. ‘And I think I know you well enough to know that you’ll let it fester otherwise, and you’ll absorb it in a very unhealthy way.’

Laurent hummed, sipping his milkshake. ‘You might have me there.’

‘It’s your choice, obviously. I’ll still be here for you, but that’s always an option you can look into.’

‘I know. Can we talk about something else now?’

‘Anything.’

Laurent put his milkshake back on the floor and turned around so he was lying on Damen, chest to chest. He folded his arms under his chin and smiled as Damen started trailing one of his hands over his back. ‘We have four days off together.’

‘How many fabric swatches do you have lined up for me to look at?’

‘Only ten or so.’

‘Ten?’

‘Well, that’s just for your suit.’

Damen groaned. ‘You couldn’t narrow it more than that?’

‘That is narrowed,’ Laurent grinned. ‘But we don’t have to talk about that right now.’

‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘Nothing, I kinda just want to make out for a bit.’

‘We can do that.’

***

**Friday, 10:10am.**

They’d been having a lazy morning. A beautiful, lazy morning. A beautiful, _soft_ , lazy morning. There was a lot of gentle touches and quiet gasps involved, and now they were starting to wake up for the day.

Laurent had designated Damen to deal with breakfast, so he’d slipped out, leaving Laurent loose and warm in their bed, coming back about twenty minutes later with plates of French toast and cups of coffee. He’d even taken his laptop to the kitchen so he could bring it back with something ready to play on Netflix.

Everything was slow and easy, a good antidote to the day they’d had yesterday. The food was perfect, as ever, the coffee sending threads of warmth through their bodies as they sipped. Everything was good.

Until Damen’s phone rang.

‘No,’ Laurent moaned. ‘Please, no, don’t let it be work.’

‘It’s not,’ Damen frowned, answering his phone. ‘Auguste?’

‘Hey,’ Auguste greeted. ‘You and Laurent are off today, right?’

‘Yeah, until Tuesday, why?’

‘Cool, can you come in?’

‘In where?’

‘The hospital? The ER, preferably.’

Damen’s frown deepened. ‘Why?’

‘Why what?’ Laurent asked.

‘Oh, Nicaise is here.’

‘Nicaise is there?’ Damen repeated. ‘In the ER?’

‘For fuck’s sake, today was meant to be relaxing!’ Laurent yelled, throwing his hands up. ‘What’s he done?’

‘Tell Laurent he’s fine,’ Auguste said tiredly. ‘He’s just got a cut on his arm.’

‘He’s fine,’ Damen relayed. ‘Just a cut on his arm.’

Laurent visibly deflated. ‘You could’ve started with that, asshole!’ he hollered into Damen’s phone. ‘We’re on the way.’

‘We’ll see you soon,’ Damen said drily.

‘Can’t wait,’ Auguste replied, hanging up.

***

**Friday, 10:47am.**

Laurent stopped in front of the nurse’s station with a heavy sigh. ‘Where’s my brother?’

‘Bed three,’ Ancel said, looking up from the computer. ‘Hi Damen.’

Laurent narrowed his eyes, hauling Damen away from the desk towards where he could hear his brother talking. He pulled back the curtain and glared at Nicaise on the bed. ‘What did you do?’

‘Hey, fuck off,’ Nicaise said, flipping him off. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

Laurent turned to Auguste, who was tidying up everything he’d used. ‘What did he do?’

‘Nothing,’ Auguste said. ‘This time.’

Damen eyed the large bandaged patch on Nicaise’s arm. ‘That doesn’t look like nothing.’

‘It wasn’t my fault, okay?’ Nicaise grumbled. ‘He started it.’

‘Who, exactly, is “he”?’ Laurent asked.

‘Oh my God, Laurent, you’re not my dad,’ Nicaise rolled his eyes. ‘Some kid at school. He was saying things.’

Auguste paused for a moment, a glove half off. ‘Do I need to kick someone’s ass?’

‘I can take care of it.’

‘Dare I ask,’ Laurent said, crossing his arms, ‘but how did you get a cut on your arm if someone was just talking?’

‘He – wasn’t just talking,’ Nicaise muttered. ‘There may have been a switchblade involved, I’m not sure.’

‘You’re not sure,’ Auguste repeated. ‘Nicaise, you need to tell someone about that.’

‘I can take care of it,’ Nicaise said again.

‘That better involve _telling_ someone.’

‘You’re not my dad, either,’ Nicaise said, cradling his arm to his chest. ‘I don’t want to tell anyone, because I promised Aleron and Hennike I wouldn’t get into trouble while they’re away for two days.’

‘So clearly, that’s going well?’ Damen asked.

‘It’s not my fault people are bigots,’ Nicaise muttered.

‘Nicaise,’ Laurent sighed, ‘you need to tell a teacher before the other kid does. You’ll be painted as the villain.’

‘Wow, a new look for me, huh?’

‘I’m not going to let you get in trouble again for something you didn’t do.’

‘What happened to all the “take responsibility for your own messes” stuff you guys are trying to drill into me?’

‘This is an exception and you know it. Don’t be a smartass,’ Auguste said. ‘Were you excused from school?’

‘No, I just…’

‘Left?’

‘Yeah.’

The three adults groaned in tandem.

‘Nicaise, we need to sort that, you can’t just up and leave the school,’ Laurent said, shaking his head. ‘Look, Damen and I are off work, we can take you to school –’

‘No,’ Nicaise interrupted. ‘I can fight my own battles.’

‘No. This isn’t a battle you’re fighting, it’s bullying,’ Auguste said.

‘It can wait until Hennike and Aleron are back. It can wait until Monday.’

‘No, because then you’ve let everyone think the worst of you for the whole weekend, and you probably won’t even let them do anything about it,’ Damen said. ‘We’re taking you to the school.’

Nicaise narrowed his eyes at him. ‘You’re not even related to me, why do you care?’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘Because I’ve been a part of your family longer than you’ve been alive, and that makes you my family, too. I care about my family.’

Nicaise sniffed, looking down to his arm, and for a moment, he looked like the scared fifteen-year-old he was. ‘Fine.’

‘I’ll go call the school and let them know we’re coming,’ Laurent said, slipping from the curtains with a last glance to Damen and his brother.

‘How deep was the cut?’ Damen asked.

‘Deep enough,’ Auguste sighed. ‘Might’ve needed stitches if it was literally anyone but me dealing with it.’

‘It’s not that bad,’ Nicaise mumbled.

‘It’s a five-inch gash,’ Auguste said flatly.

‘Five inches?’ Damen repeated. ‘Nicaise –’

‘I came straight here, didn’t I?’

‘Yeah, because you knew how bad it was.’

Nicaise pursed his lips. ‘I’m not staying to finish my classes if you take me back to school.’

‘That’s fine.’

‘But you’re not going home, either,’ Auguste said, as Laurent came back into the curtains.

‘We’re good to speak with the principal in about an hour,’ Laurent said. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I don’t finish here until late tonight, so he’s going home with you.’

‘What?’ Nicaise said. ‘Why?’

‘My parents don’t get back until tomorrow, and you’re not being left alone tonight. You’re staying at Laurent and Damen’s.’

Laurent looked to Damen with a flat expression. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’

‘Hey, direct that face to your brother, thanks. I had nothing to do with this,’ Damen said, hands raised in surrender.

‘What, like you think he should be at home?’ Auguste asked. ‘Just babysit him for the night.’

‘Hey!’ Nicaise protested. ‘I don’t need a babysitter.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ Auguste rolled his eyes. ‘They basically never cook so you’ll get takeout for dinner and they’ll probably let you win Mario Kart or whatever because they feel sorry for you.’

‘We don’t own Mario Kart,’ Damen said.

‘And we cook all the time,’ Laurent added. ‘But yeah, we might let you win some quizzes.’

‘You don’t let me win, I kick your asses,’ Nicaise scoffed. ‘Whatever. I need to go home to get some stuff though.’

‘That’s fine, we can stop past on the way back from your school.’

‘You’re really gonna make me go? It’s pointless.’

‘It’s not, it’s important to keep on good standings with your school.’

‘You’re such a fucking nerd,’ Nicaise muttered, slipping off the exam table and grabbing his bag from the floor.

‘Actually, I’m sensible,’ Laurent said, looking to Auguste. ‘If he pisses me off, I’m dropping him at yours. I don’t care what time it is or if you have someone there.’

‘Ew, who would he have there?’

‘His boyfriend,’ Damen said. ‘Tell him I say hi, by the way.’

‘You see him like every day, tell him yourself,’ Auguste said, pulling back the curtains. ‘Right, get out.’

‘That’s not very good patient care,’ Laurent said drily.

‘I don’t have to be nice to you, we’re related.’

‘I think that’s _exactly_ why you have to be nice to me.’

‘It’s not. See you later!’ Auguste said cheerfully, turning around and leaving them.

Laurent glanced to Damen. ‘Guess we should go?’

Damen hummed. ‘Guess so.’

‘Wait,’ Nicaise said, following them as they left the ER. ‘Who’s he dating? Why do you see him all the time?’

‘His boyfriend is my partner and best friend, Nik,’ Damen explained. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know him, actually. He’s known your family almost as long as I have.’

Nicaise wrinkled his nose. ‘Right.’

‘Hey, it’s _nice_ they’re dating,’ Laurent said, leading them to the car as they headed out of the ER. ‘Do you know how hard it is to find someone who understands how shitty this life and schedule can be sometimes?’

‘Well, you guys have been together since like, the womb or whatever, so you didn’t really find each other, you just matched jobs,’ Nicaise said, blowing a bubble of gum. Where had he got that from?

‘Where’d you get the gum?’ Damen asked.

Laurent had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. ‘I was just thinking that.’

‘Hive mind, baby,’ Damen winked, tapping his forehead then Laurent’s. ‘Can I have some?’

‘What?’ Nicaise blinked. ‘No. Who even says I have more?’

‘Dude, no one carries one piece of gum at a time.’

‘Did you just _dude_ me?’

‘What else do you want me to call you? Buddy? Pal? Friendo?’

Nicaise gagged at the last suggestion. ‘How about my name? Jesus.’

‘Jesus?’ Damen repeated. ‘When did you change it from Nicaise?’

Laurent high-fived his fiancé as Nicaise groaned. ‘Have you had lunch?’

‘Uh, no?’ Nicaise checked the time on his phone. ‘It’s barely past breakfast time.’

‘It’s nearly midday.’

‘Yeah, like I said. Breakfast.’

Damen looked at him in wonder as they stopped at the car. ‘What’s it like getting to sleep in?’

‘We would’ve found out if he hadn’t been _stabbed_ ,’ Laurent muttered, flicking through his keys.

‘I wasn’t stabbed!’ Nicaise protested. ‘I was… sliced.’

‘Don’t say you were sliced, Nicaise. You’re not a ham.’

‘Says who?’

‘I don’t know how to respond to that,’ Laurent said cheerfully. ‘Seat belts on.’

Nicaise made another noise of protest. ‘I don’t –’

‘I swear on all that’s holy,’ Damen interrupted, ‘if you say you don’t need a seat belt, I’m gonna come back there and buckle you in like a toddler.’

‘You can’t make me.’

‘I can and I will,’ Damen said calmly. ‘You have no idea how many car crashes I’ve been to, and how many injuries I’ve seen that could’ve been avoided if someone had worn a seat belt. If we crash, you’ll become a human projectile. Through the windscreen and over the front of the car if you’re lucky, or hurtled through the air if you’re not. You feel like dying today, Nicaise?’

Nicaise rolled his eyes. ‘Are you thinking Laurent is going to crash?’

‘No, but it’s better to be prepared, wouldn’t you agree?’ Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘Now, we have an appointment to keep, so put your seat belt on, or we’re going to be late.’

Laurent watched Damen and Nicaise have a staring contest for a few moments, before the latter gave up and rolled his eyes, clipping his seat belt on.

‘Happy?’ Nicaise asked.

‘Very, thank you.’ Damen turned back to Laurent. ‘You can drive now.’

‘Great, thank you,’ Laurent said, reversing from their park and starting to follow the instructions of his GPS. ‘Did you just parent my cousin?’ he whispered, once Nicaise had stuck his headphones on.

Damen shrugged. ‘Just making sure he’s informed of the potential consequences of his decisions.’

Laurent smiled, touching Damen’s cheek for a moment. ‘You’re going to be a great father.’

‘Well, we’ll probably have had enough practice with him, huh?’

‘We don’t parent him _that_ much.’

‘You spoil him.’

‘I don’t.’

‘You let him win that quiz game.’

Laurent pursed his lips. ‘Only sometimes.’

‘We only play the game _sometimes_. You let him pick out expensive snacks.’

‘They’re healthy!’

‘Party share bags of M&Ms aren’t healthy, babe.’

Laurent sighed. ‘Fine. Okay. But he’s learning sharing skills.’

‘He’s fifteen, if he doesn’t know how to share by now, he probably never will,’ Damen said drily. ‘His school should be just ahead, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Laurent looked to Nicaise in the rear-view mirror. ‘Hey, you listening?’

‘What do you want?’ Nicaise asked, taking a headphone out.

‘Where can we park?’

Nicaise sighed and gestured vaguely at the school gates. ‘There’s a bunch of visitor parks by the main office. Just follow the road.’

‘Wonderful, thank you,’ Laurent said, slowing as they came to the main gate. ‘This place is fancy.’

‘We went to a fancy school,’ Damen pointed out.

‘Yeah, but this one is _modern_ fancy. We had old world-fancy.’ Laurent followed the signs that directed him to a glass-walled building and pulled into a park by the doors. ‘Shall we?’

‘We’re early,’ Nicaise muttered.

‘Being early shows dedication and is considerably more responsible than turning up late,’ Laurent said. ‘Get out of the car.’

‘Ugh.’ Nicaise swung open his door and swung it closed again with a sarcastic flourish. ‘Happy?’

‘Not yet.’ Laurent gestured to the doors. ‘Let’s go.’

Nicaise took a step and cautiously looked up to the building, chewing his lip a little. ‘Do I… like, do I need to be there?’

Laurent glanced to Damen. ‘Well, yes. We weren’t there, we can’t explain things for you.’

Nicaise made a noise and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. ‘I don’t…’

‘Don’t what?’

‘Can’t they just suspend me for leaving and we’ll call it even?’ Nicaise said quietly.

Laurent frowned. ‘No. This wasn’t your fault, was it?’

‘No – I mean, kinda, but no.’

‘What do you mean by _kinda_?’ Damen asked.

‘I called him out on something shitty he said. I didn’t have a knife or anything.’

‘Okay,’ Laurent nodded. ‘That’s not your fault, though.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No.’

Nicaise sighed and rolled his shoulders. ‘Whatever,’ he said, voice firm again.

‘Okay,’ Laurent touched Damen’s elbow, and the two of them led Nicaise into the building.

***

**Friday, 12:27pm.**

‘I hope he’s okay,’ Laurent murmured, uncrossing and recrossing his legs as he watched the door of the principal’s office.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Damen reassured him, putting a hand on Laurent’s knee. ‘He’s not letting the whole thing be pinned on him for once.’

‘Only because we made him. What if this just makes more problems for him?’

‘Hopefully by talking to the principal, he can avoid that.’

Laurent made an unhappy noise. ‘Should we be in there with him?’

‘They said we could go in after they’d talked to him alone,’ Damen reminded him gently. ‘They’re all about trying to get kids to take responsibility, remember?’

‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.’

‘Neither am I.’ Damen looked up as a group of three boys came into the office waiting room, one blond and looking very similar to Laurent at that age – lanky muscle with high cheekbones. Kinda like Draco Malfoy, too. The other two had forgettable faces but were a little more muscled, and Damen took an immediate dislike to all three of them.

‘They’re just kids,’ Laurent murmured, following Damen’s line of sight. ‘Albeit kids that like to fight, but kids nonetheless.’

The boys took seats on the other side of the room directly opposite Damen and Laurent. The blond one looked them over and a slow grin spread over his face, before he said something to his friends.

One of them – his hair had frosted tips, how _disgusting_ – laughed and nodded at Damen. Or Laurent. It was hard to tell. ‘Hah,’ he said. ‘Gay.’

Laurent didn’t even need to look at Damen to know his eyebrows had shot into his hair. ‘Which one of us?’ Damen asked.

‘Not you,’ Frosty blinked. ‘What, is he your _boyfriend_?’

The other two laughed, like he’d told a great joke. ‘Boyfriend,’ the other unforgettable one said. He had stupid little tufts of hair coming from the side of his head, and it looked a bit like Shrek’s ears. ‘Classic.’

‘He’s my fiancé,’ Damen said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was in a short-sleeved shirt today, so Laurent knew exactly how many muscles would be popping in those kids’ faces right now.

 _‘You can’t intimidate children,’_ Laurent said, guessing they wouldn’t know any Veretian.

The kids just stared at them, so Laurent assumed he was right – and really, they were _in_ fucking Vere, it wasn’t that hard to learn.

 _‘I’m not intimidating the children,’_ Damen replied. _‘I’m just getting comfy.’_

‘What are you saying?’ Frosty asked. ‘Are you insulting us?’

‘You’ll regret that if you are,’ Shrek warned.

Damen let out a startled laugh, which turned into a very long, drawn out fit of laughter at the look of genuine surprise on Laurent’s face.

‘We’re here with Nicaise de Vere,’ Laurent said, shooting Damen a look that said _these kids are actually idiots_. ‘I think I’ll go ahead and assume he’s not lying when he said you started it.’

‘Morons,’ Draco muttered. ‘You’re going to get us expelled.’

‘You’d deserve it,’ Laurent muttered.

 _‘Now who’s antagonising the children?’_ Damen asked, glancing sideways at him.

 _‘Well, I don’t have enormous arms to scare them with,’_ Laurent said, right as the principal’s door opened.

The principal, a middle-aged woman with platinum blonde hair, waved them in. ‘You’re Nicaise’s caregivers?’ she asked, sitting across from them at her desk.

‘Well, no,’ Laurent admitted. ‘He’s my cousin. My parents are his caregivers but they’re out of town at the moment. Nicaise is staying with me and my fiancé.’

The principal nodded, turning to Damen. ‘And who are you?’

Damen raised an eyebrow. ‘His fiancé.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she shook her head. ‘It’s been a long day.’

‘It’s fine,’ Laurent said. ‘Nicaise?’

‘Yes, Nicaise,’ the principal agreed.

‘Has he explained the situation?’

‘He said he was involved in an altercation with three boys from his class. He said –’ she looked down to papers at her elbow, ‘that it “just happened”, but the boys are saying he pulled a knife unprovoked.’

‘Interesting,’ Laurent said, glancing to Nicaise. ‘Do any of the other boys happen to require stitches? Damen and I are both more than qualified to help.’

‘Stitches?’

‘Ma’am,’ Damen glanced to her name plaque. ‘Ms Rochester, did Nicaise happen to show you his arm and the large bandage covering the – how many stitches was it?’

‘Thirteen,’ Laurent said flatly.

‘Thank you. Thirteen stitches for the five-inch gash on Nicaise’s arm because one of those boys out there decided to pull a switchblade on _him_ ,’ Damen said, voice low and careful. ‘I know everyone likes to paint Nicaise as the asshole child who starts fights, but he’s not. We will not sit here and watch him have another discrepancy pinned on him and put on his permanent record.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ms Rochester said with a shrug. ‘Given his record versus theirs, I’m less inclined to believe Nicaise.’

‘Would you be inclined to believe us?’

‘What proof do you have?’

‘We sat outside your office and they threatened us,’ Laurent said. ‘We were speaking Veretian and they said if we were insulting them, then we would “regret it”.’ Laurent added the air quotes and rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not one to be threatened by children, and I won’t allow them to continue terrorising my cousin.’

‘Mr…’

‘Doctor de Vere,’ Laurent corrected.

‘Doctor de Vere. I’m sorry the boys may have said that to you –’

‘May have?’ Damen repeated. ‘No, they _did_.’

‘They may have said that to you,’ Ms Rochester continued, like Damen hadn’t spoken. ‘But they’re good boys, well behaved. Nicaise acts out, and it’s hardly a leap to assume he would bring a knife to the school.’

‘He’s your son, isn’t he?’ Laurent asked. ‘The blond boy outside?’

‘Yes,’ Nicaise muttered. ‘I told you this was pointless.’

‘A fancy school always has room for nepotism, huh?’ Damen said.

‘Ms Rochester, we’re not going to sit here and tell you how to run this school,’ Laurent stood, brushing down the front of his shirt, and wishing he was in something a little more intimidating than jeans and one of Damen’s henleys. ‘However, I know exactly how much my parents pay to send Nicaise here, and how much they contribute to school fundraisers. My cousin doesn’t deserve to be bullied out of this school because you don’t know how to handle your own child, so I suggest you think a little about how you intend to fix this situation, before I suggest to my parents that they remove Nicaise from your school, and their funding from your pockets.’

‘Mr de Vere –’

‘It’s _Doctor_ ,’ Laurent snapped. ‘Get a handle on your child, because I don’t want the next time we’re in here to be because my cousin has been even more seriously injured by your son and his idiot friends.’

‘Doctor de Vere,’ Ms Rochester stood as well, pulling down the edge of her blazer. ‘My son is not the issue here. Nicaise bullies _him_ , and the fact that you would believe him –’

‘Believe him?’ Damen interrupted, joining them in standing and creating a more imposing figure than either of them. ‘You’re not an impartial figure here, ma’am. Nicaise is a troubled child, but that doesn’t make him a liar, nor does it make him a bad person. It makes him someone who has been through some shit, and he’s trying to come out the other end of it. If you’re going to treat him terribly and allow others to do so as well, of course he’s going to act the part. The simple fact here that you won’t acknowledge is that Nicaise has fifteen stitches –’

‘Thirteen,’ Laurent murmured.

‘– thirteen stitches,’ Damen continued, ‘because you refuse to believe that your son would pull a knife on someone. Nicaise didn’t start anything, and you’re going to let this incident go without suspending him or putting any marks on his record. You’re also going to allow us to review his record to remove any other incidents he was falsely accused of, and any that were instigated by your son will be placed on his instead.’

‘That’s a ridiculous request, Mr…’

‘Vasileus,’ Damen said flatly.

Five different emotions crossed Ms Rochester’s face. ‘Are you related to Kastor or Theomedes?’

‘My brother and father. My brother’s children are students here, yes? In the junior school? Does my father contribute as heavily to the fundraising of this school as Laurent’s parents do?’

‘I believe so.’

‘It would be interesting if you lost their support as well, then,’ Damen tilted his head. ‘In fact, it would be very interesting indeed if any donors were to find out you’re actively punishing a student for being bullied by your own son, wouldn’t it?’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Ms Rochester asked.

‘It’s not a threat, it’s a simple statement. People choose schools for their children based on a school’s philosophy. If yours has changed to include the way you’re acting towards Nicaise, I think your students’ parents are entitled to know.’

Ms Rochester ground her teeth together as she and Damen stared at each other. ‘Fine,’ she said after a few moments. ‘Nicaise will be allowed back at school on Monday. My son and his friends will be suspended for two days.’

‘A week,’ Laurent said. ‘Minimum.’

‘A week,’ Ms Rochester said, turning her glare on him. ‘But we cannot allow you Nicaise’s records without a lawyer.’

‘No problem,’ Laurent opened his phone and flicked quickly through his contacts, grabbing a pen and pad of paper from her desk, scribbling something down. ‘My lawyer’s number. You can arrange everything with him. I’ll have him expect your call by the end of the day.’

‘Wonderful, we’re done, then.’

‘Not quite,’ Damen said, as Nicaise stood and made to leave. ‘Your son’s record?’

‘Will be suitably marked, providing there’s proof of Nicaise’s injury and any other incidents he claims were Tobias’ fault.’

‘Nicaise, your sleeve?’ Damen gestured at the large bandage now visible on Nicaise’s arm. ‘Obviously it’s covered to reduce risk of infection. Laurent and I are both medical professionals, but if you want to take up proof of injury with someone else, Laurent’s brother, Auguste, is the head of the emergency department at Ignatius Memorial. Ask him all the questions you want.’

‘Excellent.’ Ms Rochester waved them to her door, sitting back at her desk.

‘It’s rude to dismiss us like that,’ Laurent said, as he and Damen stood in the doorway. ‘We’re not students, we’re simply other adults telling you what you’re doing is wrong.’

‘Thank you, Mr de Vere.’

‘For the last time, it’s Doctor de Vere,’ Laurent said coldly. ‘Thank you for your time.’

None of them spoke until they were back in the car and Damen was driving them through the gates, the air charged. ‘You guys know I don’t have stitches, right?’ Nicaise asked, breaking the tension slightly.

‘The only reason you don’t is because Auguste is good enough to fix your injuries without them,’ Laurent sighed. ‘Don’t tell him I said that.’

‘But, speaking of, you should call Auguste,’ Damen said. ‘Tell him to expect a call from the principal.’

‘Yeah. I should probably call Torveld as well and have him expect one too.’

‘You guys didn’t need to make such a fuss,’ Nicaise said quietly. ‘They all hate me there.’

‘Do you want to move schools?’ Laurent asked. ‘I’ll talk to my parents because I think the situation warrants it – but only if you want.’

‘I do, but that’s letting them win.’

‘Sometimes it’s best to admit defeat, Nicaise.’

Nicaise sniffed and looked out the window. ‘I like my teachers. I get good grades, despite what she’d have you believe. I’m only a problem when they made me one.’

‘We know,’ Laurent turned to face him. ‘You don’t deserve to be treated like this.’

‘Don’t I?’

‘No,’ Damen looked to him in the rear-view mirror. ‘You’re a good kid.’

Nicaise pursed his lips and tugged the collar of his hoodie up a bit higher. ‘Thanks for sticking up for me.’

‘You don’t need to thank us. It’s what family does.’

‘Okay,’ Nicaise said softly, before getting his headphones and shoving them in his ears.

‘I think I’m going to talk to my parents,’ Laurent murmured.

‘Let Nicaise decide what he wants to do,’ Damen said, taking a turn to head to Laurent’s parents’ place. ‘He’s had enough of adults making major life choices for him.’

‘What, you think he should stay there?’

‘No, I don’t, but I think he should be allowed to choose for himself.’

Laurent sighed, twisting in his chair a little to face Damen. ‘I just don’t want him to stay because he thinks he has to prove a point.’

‘That’s the sort of stubborn thing you do.’

‘And you,’ Laurent laughed. ‘Remember prom?’

Damen made a noise and rolled his eyes. ‘“One of your pair needs to be in a dress, one in a suit.” Fucking bullshit.’

‘I pulled off that dress better than any of the girls could’ve.’

‘I agree. Your legs looked phenomenal.’

‘Looked?’ Laurent repeated. ‘Past tense?’

‘Baby, your legs are ageing like fine wine,’ Damen said, patting Laurent’s knee placatingly. ‘Except the joints.’

‘What’s wrong with my joints?’ Laurent protested.

Damen glanced into the rear-view mirror to check Nicaise still had his headphones in. ‘You know I love you unconditionally –’

‘There better not be a _but_ in there.’

‘Don’t interrupt, it’s not a bad thing. Just… your knees crack sometimes when you ride me.’

Laurent blinked at him. ‘Are you saying I _crunch_ when we fuck?’

‘Okay, I didn’t say anything about crunching. And it’s not a bad thing! We both have joints that crack like that.’

‘How is that not a bad thing? You’re making it sound like I’m falling apart.’

‘You’re not falling apart.’

‘But I’m _crunchy_!’ Laurent pulled Damen’s shirt up to cover his face.

‘Laurent,’ Damen said, taking one of his hands away. ‘Baby, it’s fine, you’re not crunchy. I said your knees crack _sometimes_ which is totally valid.’

‘You said I’m the crunchy peanut butter of sex!’

‘I _definitely_ did not say that.’

‘You implied it!’

‘I said your _knees sometimes_ _crack_ when you _ride me_.’

‘Which I do a lot!’

‘I know, and I said it isn’t a bad thing!’

‘Damen, I don’t know how we can move past you calling me _crunchy_.’

Damen sighed. ‘I literally did not call you crunchy.’

‘You did.’

‘You started the crunchy.’

Laurent poked his head out of his shirt and stared sceptically at Damen. ‘Did I call myself crunchy?’

‘Yes.’

Laurent frowned as they pulled up in front of his parents’ gate, watching Damen as he leaned over to punch in the gate code. ‘Why did you let me call myself crunchy?’

‘You really rolled with it, I did try to stop you,’ Damen pointed out. ‘If your bones are crunching, I’d recommend you see a doctor.’

‘Oh, that’s your professional recommendation, huh?’

‘Yes,’ Damen leaned over and kissed him lightly after parking in front of the house. ‘Even so, I fucking love Doritos.’

‘Now you’re calling me a Dorito? A corn chip?’

‘A delicious corn chip,’ Damen confirmed. ‘Let’s get Nicaise organised, yeah?’

‘Nicaise is staying one night,’ Nicaise said, watching them with a look of disgust. ‘Nicaise can go in and be organised in five minutes so you two can finish your fucking weird discussion about crunching.’

‘I thought your headphones were in,’ Laurent said, furiously fighting the blush in his cheeks.

‘That doesn’t mean I was listening to anything,’ Nicaise faked a gag. ‘You two are gross. I’ll be right back.’

‘Yep, sounds good,’ Laurent squeaked, watching him as he left the car and climbed the steps to the house, disappearing inside. ‘Great. Now my cousin knows I crunch when we fuck.’

‘Okay, I really need to specify what I said because you’re really hung up about crunching,’ Damen sighed. ‘I said your _knees sometimes_ _crack_ when you’re _riding me_. See the difference? You’re implying your entire body makes a noise like a potato chip bag being scrunched.’

‘You said you like Doritos and then called me one.’

‘Did it make you feel better?’

‘No. It made me feel worse.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Damen said, turning fully in his chair towards Laurent. ‘It’s a normal thing as you age. We’re both falling apart.’

‘Do your knees crack when you ride _me_?’

Damen hummed thoughtfully. ‘Been a while, but one way to find out. Would it make you feel better if they did?’

‘Probably.’

‘Plans for tomorrow night then.’

‘Tomorrow? Why not tonight?’

‘Nicaise will be in our house.’

Laurent nodded. ‘That’s a good point. Maybe I’ll ride you tonight and we can compare.’

‘Really?’

‘I’m quieter than you.’

‘Are your knees?’

Laurent narrowed his eyes. ‘Shut up.’

***

**Friday, 6:57pm.**

‘I could’ve stayed at home and had this exact same night,’ Nicaise muttered, as Laurent passed him the phone to pick something off Uber eats for dinner. ‘Like, I was literally left money for food, I have friends I can game with online, and instead I’m stuck at your apartment listening to you talk about how Laurent’s crunchy.’

‘I’m not fucking crunchy,’ Laurent said, narrowing his eyes. ‘Hurry up and pick something.’

Nicaise rolled his eyes and tapped a couple of times on the screen, handing him the phone back. ‘There.’

‘Thank you. Donut balls?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Did I forget to add them to the basket?’ Damen asked, leaning over Laurent’s shoulder. ‘Wait, get the cheesecake as well.’

‘Want to share?’

‘Yes please.’

Laurent hummed and added a slice of cheesecake and pack of donut balls (with dipping sauce, obviously) to their cart. ‘Nicaise, any dessert?’

‘Dessert?’ Nicaise asked. ‘Am I allowed one?’

‘Well, yeah,’ Laurent handed the phone back again. ‘You can’t get the alcoholic ones, though.’

‘What? Why not?’ Nicaise frowned.

‘You’re underage.’

‘So, what, I can’t get a five-dollar slice of alcohol-flavoured cheesecake, but you’ll let me get a pint of ice cream for ten?’

‘Absolutely.’

Nicaise raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, if you insist,’ he muttered, giving the phone back a few moments later.

‘That’s a hefty bill,’ Laurent said, sighing as he put through the payment.

‘Yeah, but you’re like, rich,’ Nicaise said, ‘so who cares.’

‘Fair point,’ Damen muttered.

‘You,’ Laurent pointed at Damen, ‘shut up, you’re a bad influence. And you,’ Laurent turned his finger to Nicaise. ‘What do you want to do? Movie or game?’

‘You can put a movie on. I might go shower, if it’s okay.’

‘Absolutely. Let me check that cut when you get back, okay? We have dressings here, so I want to put a fresh one on to keep it clean.’

‘It’s just a cut,’ Nicaise said, standing and rolling his eyes.

‘It’s a bit more than a cut,’ Damen said. ‘Just let him dress it, you won’t hear the end of it otherwise.’

Nicaise groaned. ‘Fine. Don’t put anything dumb on the TV.’

‘Oh please,’ Laurent hollered, as Nicaise headed down the hall. ‘My taste is _impeccable!_ ’

‘Of course,’ Damen agreed, pressing his lips to Laurent’s hair. ‘You know I don’t mind having Nicaise here, but this really isn’t the romantic weekend I had in mind.’

‘It’s just one night,’ Laurent said, nestling himself into Damen’s side. ‘I’ve let my parents know what happened, so they’ll pick him up from here sometime tomorrow morning, probably on their way from the airport.’

‘And then we have three days together _alone_.’

Laurent hummed. ‘Alone with fabric samples and cake tastings.’

‘Fuck I love cake.’

‘I have us booked to visit seven different cake makers.’

‘Oh baby,’ Damen wrapped his arms around Laurent and pulled him to his chest. ‘Say _less_.’

‘They have a minimum of three flavours each,’ Laurent said, straddling Damen’s thighs. ‘That’s at least twenty-one cakes.’

Damen bit his lip, humming as Laurent settled on him. ‘That’s a lot of cake, we’re gonna be riding sugar highs like toddlers.’

Laurent grinned. ‘Baby, we’re gonna have so much energy, we both know it’s not the only thing we’ll be riding.’

‘Even though you think you’re crunchy?’

Laurent hummed, bending to kiss Damen for the shortest of moments, before he whispered against his lips, ‘Fuck my crunchy joints.’

‘Absolutely can do.’

‘Now?’

Damen laughed, tightening his grip on Laurent’s hips for a moment. ‘I would love to, but we both know we’re not always the fastest.’

‘Why do we need to be fast?’

‘Babe, Nicaise is here.’

Laurent sat back on Damen and frowned. ‘Right.’

‘What time are we booked in for tastings tomorrow?’

‘Starting at eleven. I figure we won’t really need lunch tomorrow.’

‘And your parents get back when?’

‘Their plane lands at eight, so Nicaise will probably be gone by ten at the latest.’

‘Which means we have a free hour.’

Laurent hummed. ‘I suppose we can squeeze something in.’

‘We can squeeze lots of things in lots of places,’ Damen grinned, running his hands up Laurent’s back. ‘Tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow,’ Laurent agreed, rolling off Damen and landing back in his spot beside him. ‘What are we putting on Netflix?’

‘Has Nicaise seen _Mean Girls_?’

‘God, I hope so,’ Laurent grabbed the remote and started navigating the Netflix search. ‘But it’s better to be safe than sorry.’

***

**Saturday, 9:20am.**

‘Are you fucking _joking?_ ’ Nicaise groaned, rolling onto his front and pushing his face into his pillow. ‘I have to get up?’

‘Yep, sorry,’ Laurent said, throwing the curtains open. ‘My parents are on the way, and me and Damen have things to do.’

‘Now?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘It’s like, the asscrack of dawn, go back to sleep like normal people.’

‘It’s nearly half past nine.’

‘No, I want to sleep.’

‘Come on, just get up, and you can go back to bed when you get home.’ Laurent was on the verge of pleading, and he hoped it wasn’t coming through in his voice. If it was, Nicaise was sure to exploit it, and Laurent would be down at least fifty dollars from his wallet.

‘Why are you so desperate for me to leave?’ Nicaise whined, rolling back to glare up at Laurent.

Laurent leaned in close and whispered, ‘Because you weren’t supposed to _be here,_ and I now only have three days to myself with my fiancé.’

‘Are you –’ Nicaise scrunched his face. ‘Oh, _ew_ , come on, really? You’re like, fifty.’

‘I’m not even thirty!’ Laurent protested. ‘Get up, or I’ll send Damen in here to be aggressively cheerful at you.’

‘Oh, fuck that,’ Nicaise sat up. ‘Fine. I hate you. I hate knowing things about you.’

‘But hey,’ Laurent pulled the covers back and gestured grandly at Nicaise, now exposed to the open air. ‘It got you up, didn’t it?’

‘Yeah, because you’re threatening to _bone_ while I’m here,’ Nicaise gagged dramatically as he stood and pulled a hoodie on over his pyjamas. ‘Or in your case, _crunch_.’

Laurent sighed. ‘I fucking hate teenagers,’ he muttered, leaving the room.

‘He up?’ Damen asked, looking up from his book as Laurent came back into the living room and flopped onto a chair.

‘Finally, yes,’ Laurent pulled his phone out to see a text from his mother. ‘Nicaise, they’re almost here!’

‘Could you not yell?’ Nicaise asked, coming into the room with a bag swung over his shoulder. ‘You’re shit hosts.’

‘Hey, we let you get a pint of ice cream last night.’

‘Yeah, and speaking of, I’m taking the rest home with me. Consider it damages.’

‘You double dipped your spoon,’ Damen said, folding his book over the arm of the couch. ‘Take your germy ice cream with you, it’s fine.’

‘Cool,’ Nicaise said, as he disappeared into the kitchen.

‘They’re downstairs,’ Laurent called. ‘Do you want us to walk you down?’

‘Nope,’ Nicaise said, emerging from the doorway again. ‘Thanks for letting me stay, and for uh… yesterday.’

Laurent softened. ‘It’s okay. We’ve got your back, you know that.’

Nicaise nodded. ‘You too, Damen.’

Damen blinked in surprise. ‘Of course.’

‘Anyway,’ Nicaise cleared his throat. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Yep, see you later,’ Damen waved, watching as Laurent got up to follow Nicaise to the door and lock it behind him.

Laurent let out a deep breath as he came back from the couch, climbing directly into Damen’s lap and lacing his fingers behind his neck. ‘It’s nine thirty.’

‘It is,’ Damen agreed. ‘We have an hour before we need to leave.’

Laurent hummed. ‘More or less.’

‘Good,’ Damen scooped an arm under Laurent to carry him, bridal-style.

‘Where are we going?’ Laurent asked interestedly.

‘Bedroom,’ Damen said, and as he stood, his joints popped loudly. ‘Don’t you dare say a word,’ he muttered, carrying a giggling Laurent away.

‘But –’

‘No.’

_‘Crunchy.’_

Damen sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> excessively domestic and lacking in medicine (this is a fucking medical au, what is _wrong_ with me?) BUT i already have ThoughtsTM about a part three so hopefully it'll take me less than two years to post that one 🙃
> 
> as usual, you can follow me on [tweeter](http://twitter.com/daamiaanos) and [tumblr](http://damiaanos.tumblr.com) :)


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